


He was both everything I could ever want… And nothing I could ever have

by Kiwipineapple



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 01:20:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20806133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiwipineapple/pseuds/Kiwipineapple
Summary: A young Frodo learns about Thorin Oakenshield.





	He was both everything I could ever want… And nothing I could ever have

Over his many visits to the Shire, Gandalf had met plenty of little hobbits. Bilbo himself had been very young when Belladonna had first introduced him to Gandalf. All children in the Shire seemed to share an aura of peace and innocence. Yet, Frodo, despite the tragedy he had seen, seemed to be even sweeter. He seemed like a fairy child, with his black curls and pink cheeks. Gandalf had come to the Shire just to check on Bilbo, and he had been surprised to see a child in his arms when Bilbo answered the door.  
Frodo had been quite scared of Gandalf at first. He had never seen someone so tall or so hairy. He was getting used to the strange man now. He wanted to see if the man would let him play with the wooden staff he held, but then he got distracted.  
  
“Uncle Bilbo said he’s known you for a long time,” Frodo said.  
  
Gandalf, surprised that Frodo had found the courage to speak to him, answered, “Yes, he was just a little bit older than you when I met him.”  
  
“Wow, that is a long time. Bilbo is very old.” Gandalf always felt old among the hobbits, but the idea that Bilbo could be considered old made him very conscious of his own age. He tried to ignore that feeling. The feeling that all those he cared for here in the Shire, in the lands of men, or the halls of the dwarves were simply fleeting dreams, short memories. Luckily, Frodo had more questions. “Did he love my daddy and mommy very much?"  
  
This surprised Gandalf, but he answered honestly. “As far as I’m aware, Bilbo considered Bungo one of the best amongst his cousins, but they were not very close. After all, the family connection is not so very close and Bilbo had been traveling. He did tell me he was very sure about taking care of you. He took you in because he loved you, Frodo. I don’t think he did it for your parents, never doubt that he cares for you. I’m sure he was sad to lose them.”

  
This answer did not seem to suite Frodo. “I know Bilbo loves me. He makes all my favorite food for me and he never gets angry when I wake him up in the middle of the night. He reads me lots of stories and does all the voices. I think he’s the best uncle anyone could ever have.” The idea of Bilbo being so nurturing of this child made Gandalf smile. Bilbo had always loved taking care of others. After all, Bilbo had always been the one forcing Fili to eat his seconds and making sure that Ori’s contributions to the group were appreciated. Even the older dwarves always seemed to come to Bilbo with their concerns. Why, even Thorin…

  
“But why is Bilbo so sad?” This stopped Gandalf’s train of thought,

  
“Excuse me, my boy?”

  
“Bilbo, whenever he thinks I’m playing by myself or when I’m reading a book by the fire. He gets this look in his eyes. Like he wants to cry. I cried a lot after mommy and daddy went away, but Bilbo didn’t. He just gave me lots of hugs and excellent pie. I thought maybe he was like that because he doesn’t know how to, how to cry.”

  
Oh Frodo, he knows how to cry. He has shed so many tears. He cried when Thorin spoke his last words. He sobbed as the dwarves came to collect their king. He choked on his tears when he heard that the line of Durin had been ended, that Kili and Fili were gone too. The hobbit’s eyes had streamed with tears as they made plans for Dain to take control of the Lonely Mountains, all the plans that Thorin would not be a part of. Gandalf would never forget the sight of the tiny hobbit in front of that bier, weeping with no concern for the dwarves, men, and elves who came to pay their respects. He sniffled as he crept away from Erebor and his screams would often wake Gandalf as they traveled back towards the Shire.

  
Frodo had not noticed that Gandalf was distracted. “But I don’t think he would be this kind of sad for people he didn’t love. I cried for my mummy and daddy because I loved them very much. He just sits there with that sword and his maps and he’s sad.”

  
Gandalf sunk to the floor next to Frodo and welcomed Frodo to sit in his lap. “Do you remember, Frodo, how your father loved your mother? Do you remember how they cared for each other? Well, Bilbo had someone like that, someone he would have died for, someone who would have died for him, but they didn’t get to live together. I don’t think Bilbo even realizes that his love was returned. And that person, the one your uncle loved so much, went away. He went away like your mother and father did. That’s why he’s sad.”

Frodo considered all of this. He played with Gandalf’s beard while he thought. “Uncle Bilbo makes me happy a lot. He makes me not want to cry as much. Do you think I could make him happy?"

“Oh Frodo, you do make him happy, very happy. But you know, grown-ups are very bad at forgetting. He’ll just be sad sometimes.”

“Can you tell me about him, Bilbo’s person?”

“Thorin was strong and stubborn. Your uncle Bilbo was often the only person who could make him see reason. But he was a warrior, a noble dwarf, one with honor and a strong sense of duty.”

Frodo furrowed his brow at this, “A dwarf? I can’t see Bilbo liking that. He likes his books and china too much.”

Gandalf chuckled to himself. “Thorin was a hard man, but the world had made him like that. He had a lot of love in him. Love for his people and his family. He had nephews too, you know. Two boys that both he and Bilbo loved very much.”

“I wonder if he would have liked me,”

“He would have loved you Frodo.”

“How did they me-"

“Well aren’t you two as thick as thieves?” Bilbo had re-entered the room with a bowl of stew and good crusty bread. “Whatever are you two whispering about?”

Gandalf considered his little friend. He saw the gray streaks in his hair and the shadows under his eyes. “I was just going to tell Frodo of your rather unexpected adventure. Perhaps you would like to help me?” Bilbo froze for just a moment, but he saw the curiosity in his nephew’s eyes and decided it was time to tell this story. He set the stew down by Gandalf, sunk into an armchair, and lit his pipe.

He smiled at Frodo, “That is quite the story. Well, where should I begin… oh, I know. In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit.”

\--------------

Many years later, Frodo was no longer a child. His uncle was quite old now. Frodo had destroyed the one ring and defeated a great evil. He was growing tired of this life and he wanted to move on, but there was one task left to complete.

He called upon Gimli and Legolas who had been traveling together and asked for their help. He retraced the steps that his uncle had taken, so long ago. The path was easier now. He met no trolls, goblins, or orcs. He stayed in Rivendell amongst some of the last elves in Arda and Legolas helped them pass rather easily through what was once again the Greenwood. Esgaroth was a thriving market town and Dale a bustling city where they feasted with the children and grandchildren of Bard the Bowman. They approached the city of Erebor and the sight of Gimli returning to the Lonely Mountain had the dwarves readying a feast for all of them.

An elderly dwarf came running down from the parapets. “My son! My son is home!” Once he was done embracing Gimli, he forced himself to turn to Legolas and shake the elf’s hand. He turned to Frodo, who had been steeling himself for this moment.

“Hello, Gloin, son of Groin. Frodo Baggins, at your service,” he clapped his hand over his chest and bowed low. Gloin looked down upon the little hobbit and for a moment he was thrown back in time.

“You’re Bilbo’s boy?"

“Yes, sir. I’ve come to meet you and… and to pay my respects”

“Of course you have, your Uncle always was the sentimental type. Come along. I’ll show you where they are.”

Frodo handed over the reins of his pony to his friends and slung his pack back onto his back. Gloin marched him through the gates and he saw that his uncle had not been exaggerating about the splendor of the dwarven city. He would need to have Gimli show him around. Gloin kept walking down, down, and down into the mountain. They reached the crypt, but Gloin did now slow. He walked to the back wall of the crypt and opened a great door that was covered in gilt and jewels.

“They’re through this door, laddie. They’re in the back, You’ll know them when you see them.” Frodo walked through the doors and passed into what he assumed would be the dark rooms beyond, but the dwarves had not let their kin lie in the dark. Sheets of polished silver had been placed throughout the hall so that reflected sunlight illuminated stone tombs and statues. He walked past the carven coffins and bejeweled caskets of Durin’s folk, of kings long dead. Near the very back of the room stood twin statues, and Frodo recognized them immediately. He stood between them and bowed.

“Fili. Kili. You do not know me, but I know you. I hope you lie in peace and know that my uncle misses you still. I would have liked to meet you in this life” Frodo felt his eyes grow cloudy and his heart heavy, but he knew there was more to say, so he pushed himself past those statues, to the one they were guarding.

The dwarves had built a statue of Thorin too, but this one was twice as large and was made not of stone, but iron. Set in his crown was the glittering Arkenstone. Frodo stared up at that hard face and stern brow. He tried to imagine this dwarf as a man in love. As someone who had laughed with his nephews, played pranks on the older dwarves, or cursed in the throne room of the great Elvish king. At least Fili and Kili had been carved as the young princes they were. Strong, but smiling. Thorin was carved as a distant and heroic king, not the man that Frodo knew he had been.

“Hello, Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain. I hope you don’t mind me visiting you. You must know that Bilbo still lives. He and I will be passing out of this world soon, and we will carry your memory with us. I wanted to leave you some gifts. He got back home and he planted that acorn. He returned to his books and his armchair. He would sit under that oak and speak of you. Long after he and I leave, that oak will be there. That oak that the both of you spoke of in those dark days. I have brought two acorns from that tree here to Erebor. One will sit here on your casket, and the other will be planted on the mountain to give shade to dwarves for generations to come.  
I have also brought the Mithril shirt. It protected both of us many times, you protected us many times. We will have no need of it in the Undying Lands and such a treasure should stay here, in dwarven lands.

Finally, I leave Sting. It has been a good companion to me, but it was Uncle’s first. Uncle would have liked to be buried here, with you, but he never got to earn that right. I know that if he had been, he would have been buried with Sting. I would like it to stay here. Gimli promised that it wouldn’t offend anyone and we don’t plan to fight any more battles.  
Your Majesty, the memory of you has given Uncle Bilbo a lot of grief. I used to want to take that away. I thought it would be better for him to be happy and to forget his sadness, forget you. But I was wrong, you were always his great joy. I’ve realized that all the pain in the world doesn’t make the memory of the ones you love any less dear. He would speak often of his adventure and you the silly dwarven king. He, he forgave you. He doesn’t hold your sickness against you and he never regrets meeting you. You were the best part of his life and I will always be grateful that he got to know you, that he got to meet his One.

I know that you never told Uncle Bilbo you loved him, but Gandalf said you did. Balin and Ori, who came to visit us once, both said he was your One. So… so, I just came to tell you that Uncle Bilbo loves you. I don’t know if anyone told you. I thought you deserved to be told. Uncle Bilbo loved you as you trekked together towards certain danger and when you died. He loved you when he betrayed your trust and when you threatened him in madness. He loved you when he had to return home alone and when he grew old alone and far away. He loves you still as he plans to sail west. He passed that love on to me. I loved all of his stories of you and you have been a hero in all my memories. I don’t think I could have made it through the last years without the memory of you in my mind, the knowledge of your strength, and the hope that you were watching over us.

  
“Goodbye, Uncle Thorin. I will keep watch over him for you. We will see you in the next life.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please please please leave comments! I love hearing from you guys. Even if you just have a suggestion for the piece or my writing in general, then please let me know! I don't write a lot and I'd love to get better at it.
> 
> “He was both everything I could ever want…  
And nothing I could ever have”  
― Ranata Suzuki


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